Redux
by GW Katrina
Summary: What would happen if LotR didn't take place in the world JRR Tolkien saw it in? What happen if it took place in a world where there were no dwarves, elves, or hobbits, but everyone was instead born with mystical Talents? *Warning!!!* Major AU
1. Awakening

The phone let loose with a shrill ring, dragging the young man on the bed from his dreams with a groan.  
Dreams of fire and gold.  
  
Large blue eyes opened, then shut with a wince as the man whimpered, pulling a pillow over his face as  
he felt around for the phone. After knocking the clock radio off the table, as well as the lamp, he found  
the phone and pulled it under the pillow. "'Lo."  
  
"Hello, Frodo."  
  
The cheerful voice was easy to recognize. "What to you want, Pippin?" Frodo sighed, keeping a soft  
whimper back by force of will. His head hurt. "And why are you so damn cheerful?"  
  
"I was the DD last night. Now, Merry here, he looks like you sound." There was noise in the  
background, and Frodo winced at some of the words that he heard.   
  
Chancing a peek outside the pillow once again, Frodo moaned softly. His head really, really hurt. "Pip,  
just tell me what you want."  
  
His friend's tone was teasing. "What's wrong, Frodo? I thought you had a great time last night."  
  
Pippin's tone had Frodo worried. He had turned 21 yesterday, and his friends had taken him bar-  
hopping. Closing his eyes, the young man tried to pull memories from his sleep-fogged mind.   
  
They had gone bar-hopping. He remembered that. They had ended up in a club called the Gray Side of  
the Force. By then, they had been out half the night, and he was definitely smashed. There were some  
vague memories of singing on stage with a guy called Obi-Wan. Halfway into the song, a guy with some  
freaky tattoos and horns had come up and grabbed his singing partner off the stage. Then strong arms  
had also dragged Frodo off stage.   
  
Suddenly, Frodo remembered, and a silly smile crossed his face. He had finally tumbled Sam into bed  
last night. Or Sam had tumbled him. Either way, they had ended up spending the rest of the night there.   
  
He must have made some noise, because Pippin laughed. "So, what's it like with an empath?"  
  
"None of you're business," Frodo growled. "Besides, Merry would kill you if you tried anything."  
  
"My, you're snarly today." Frodo could hear Pippin's smirk, and vowed to kill him next time he saw  
him. "I'll let you go so you can . . . enjoy the day." The other man snickered and hung up.  
  
With a grumble, he hit the off button and dropped the phone. Deciding to get it over with, he pulled the  
pillow off his face and sat up. While he waited for the room to stop moving, Frodo remembered the  
events from the night before with a smile. There had always been comments about bedding empaths,  
and from last night, he would have to say that all of them were true. Still, the fact that Sam was an  
empath wasn't the only reason Frodo had wanted to bed him, and Sam would have know that as soon  
as he had touched Frodo.  
  
The room had finally stopped swirling, so Frodo looked for his robe. It was missing, so he assumed that  
Sam had it. As he looked around, the young man was surprised to see that a pair of pants were hanging  
from the ceiling fan. He didn't remember anything being tossed with that much force.   
  
Finding nothing that he could use as a robe, he finally decided to forget it. They were in the middle of  
nowhere, so if anyone found a way to peek in his place, they deserved a show. Anyway, there were  
delicious smells starting to drift his way from the kitchen. Rising, Frodo Baggins started down the hall,  
naked as the day he was born.  
  
Following his nose, Frodo was soon in the kitchen. There was Sam, who was cooking whatever  
smelled so tasty. Waiting for his lover to set the hot pan down, Frodo moved up and kissed the nape of  
Sam's neck, wrapping his arms around the other man. "Morning, GB. What are you doing up so early?"  
  
Leaning into the hug, Sam turned his head so he could see Frodo. "Hey, Feb. Just cooking the birthday  
boy some breakfast. Doing it before he starts to pester me for it."  
  
Feeling the sensation that meant someone was in pain, Frodo placed his finger against Sam's forehead.  
"I'll have you know that I've been taking care of myself ever since Bilbo left," he told Sam as he healed  
the hangover headache.  
  
Sam snorted, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "Please. I know for a fact that you've been begging me,  
Pippin, or Merry to cook for you the last three years." Sam shook his head. "The only one of us who  
can't cook. Shame, shame." Another kiss. "Thanks. There's some fresh squeezed juice in the fridge."  
He turned to finish breakfast.   
  
Frodo's head still hurt, but it felt better after he had some cold juice to drink. He wished that his healing  
talent just didn't apply to other people. It would have been nice if he could have fixed himself,  
sometimes. He looked around. "So why are we at the cabin?"  
  
Sliding a plate of eggs, sausage, and something that looked really good, Sam shrugged. "Pip dropped  
us off at the edge of the woods. You were determined to come here. Then you shifted and made me  
chase you." Frodo stared at him blankly. "Don't remember that, hm?"  
  
The young man shook his head, black curls going everywhere. "I remembered what happened when we  
got here, just not much of the time between the Gray Side and when we hit the couch."  
  
Licking his lips, Sam, leaned in close. "How about a reminder?"  
  
Both jumped when the phone went off. Startled, Frodo smacked at it, hitting the speaker phone button  
as he picked up. "Hello?"  
  
"Frodo, thank heavens I found you."  
  
"Gandalf?"  
  
"Look, I don't have time for this. Grab that ring Bilbo left you and head for the hotel on the corner of of  
North Way and Bree?"   
  
"The Prancing Pony? That's a long way off, Gandalf. We're in the cabin. And the ring's in the  
apartment."  
  
There were some muttered words, and Frodo was treated to his second cursing lesson of the day. "Just  
meet me there."  
  
"It'll take us about a hour, Gandalf. Maybe two."  
  
"Sam! What are . . .? Never mind. You two just get here as fast as possible. Don't forget the ring,  
Frodo. And hurry."  
  
There was a click, and the dial tone sounded over the speaker. Frodo and Sam looked at each other.  
"What do you think, Feb?"  
  
Already rising, Frodo looked at Sam. "This is Gandalf, GB. He's never in a hurry. Ever. If he wants us  
to hurry, there must be something up. We need to go." The young man quickly found some clothes, and  
Sam pulled on his outfit from the night before.  
  
As they walked outside, Frodo sighed. "We're going to have to go to the apartment, so we had better  
get moving."  
  
Sam nodded, and both seemed to shimmer. There was no noise as they changed. Where once two  
human had stood, two animals now did. One was a dancing horse, sleek and beautiful, the other was a  
buck, who's was crowned by a large rack.  
  
Both started for the main road.  
  
TBC 


	2. Black Riders

Wind whistled through the trees as a sleek, gray Arabian stallion   
raced with a large, golden-brown buck. With a whicker, the stallion   
took the lead, only to coughed at as the deer stopped. The Arabian   
slowed, dancing lightly in place. No longer pounding through the   
brush, he also heard the high-pitched scream.   
  
From the sky dropped a streak of gray. It landed on a branch just   
ahead of the two animals and chirped, bright black eyes blinking   
rapidly. Once the horse and deer looked at it, it jumped and glided   
to the ground. Touching down, the gray peregrine falcon shimmered, a   
strange sensation on the eyes, and there stood Peregrin Took, who   
fidgeted before the horse and deer.  
  
Once the falcon had become human, the same shimmer wrapped around the   
two animals, and they also became human. "What are you doing here,   
Pippin?" asked Sam, unaware how much he sounded like Frodo had that   
morning.  
  
Shifting uneasily, Pippin looked at his friends. "Merry had a vision   
not more than half an hour after I talked to you," he said, brown   
eyes meeting Frodo's blue. "He's at the Buckland, waiting at   
Crickhollow for us."  
  
Both Sam and Frodo started. "That's were we're heading," murmured   
Frodo, also looking around at the woods. "We were at Bag End, and   
Gandalf called. Said we were to get the ring Bilbo left me, and meet   
him at the Prancing Pony."  
  
Pippin nodded. "Merry said the focus was the ring. It showed up in   
everything. Fire, blood, and fighting, and the ring at the center of   
it all. We need to get to Crickhollow quick, and then on to Gandalf."  
  
Even as Pippin said that, there was a dull roar, one that all three   
quickly identified as a motor. Frodo shivered as a feeling of unease   
crept up his neck. "We should hide," he told the other two.   
  
"But it might be someone who can give us a ride," protested Pippin.   
Sam merely touched Frodo's hand.   
  
"He's right, Pippin. We need to hide." All three men slid into the   
surrounding brush. A few seconds later, the roar was loud and clear.   
Where they had stood just seconds before, a large, black motorcycle   
rumbled to a stop. On it was a man dressed in black leathers, who's   
helmet was the same dark shade, with the mask down. First facing one   
way, then another, the dark figure seemed to be sniffing for   
something, if the noise that could be heard over the engine was any   
indication.   
  
Feeling the urge to walk out and surrender to the man, Frodo was   
surprised when Sam's hand clamped down hard on his wrist. Taking one   
look into Sam's deep brown eyes, and Frodo stayed where he was. He   
barely suppressed a sigh of relief as the black rider started away,   
vanishing from sight quickly.  
  
Once the strange person had gone, Pippin, Frodo, and Sam moved out of   
the brush. "We must get away from here," said Sam. "That fellow   
creeped me out." He shivered a little.  
  
Pippin nodded. "Me, too." Frodo said nothing, only stared at the spot   
that the black rider had sat.  
  
"That sniffing was the worst part," Pippin continued, a shiver   
running down his own form. "We need to get going."  
  
This time Frodo nodded. "But not on this path. We'll run right into   
him if he turns about. We'll have to cut cross country."  
  
Both of the others stared at him. "Are you insane?" asked Pippin. "We   
haven't been off this path is years."  
  
A soft hand rested on Frodo's shoulder. He looked at the owner. "How   
about we travel this way a bit more," said Sam. "Even if we don't   
shift, we'll still hear the engine long before he shows back up. The   
closer we get to the main road, the less chance we have of getting   
lost."  
  
Not liking the idea to stay on the path, but unable to argue with   
Sam's logic, Frodo gave in. "All right. But we're going shifted. Our   
ears are much better that way."   
  
The other two agreed, and soon the horse, deer, and falcon were   
traveling again. The bird flew along the path ahead of the two earth-  
bound creatures. All three were listening for any noise, so it was   
easy to hear another engine, coming from the same direction as the   
first had. Pippin quickly took to a tree above the path, and Sam   
followed Frodo, who waded into a thick thicket that surrounded   
Pippin's tree, and both laid down.   
  
All three could see the path, and all three held their breath as the   
black motorcycle stopped once more. This time, the man got off.   
Making sure the kick stand would keep the bike up, the man moved   
towards the thicket, making the same sniffing noise as the other one   
had. Frodo tensed, all his instincts telling him to be ready to flee.  
  
All of a sudden, the man froze, then raced back to his bike. Kicking   
the kick stand, he sped away, leaving behind three slightly confused   
people. Then the breeze brought the sound of singing, and Frodo   
recognized what it was. He rose, and moved out of the thicket. Still   
off the path, he shifted, followed by Sam and Pippin.  
  
"Who are they, Feb?" While Sam had visited Bag End before, he had   
never stayed that long, and he had never heard people singing in the   
woods before. Actually, neither had Pippin.  
  
Tilting his head, Frodo listened. He smiled suddenly. "That is a   
Speaker caravan. Tree Speakers, if I'm right. Sounds like their   
tongue." He caught the others confused looks. "There aren't many   
Speakers, but those who are around tend to gather together in family   
caravans. Most will be Speakers to the same thing, but you'll get an   
odd Talent or two in the bunch. I want to ask them if they know   
what's going on."  
  
The trio didn't have to wait long. Soon, a group of singing people   
came into view. Tall and thin, they resembled the thing they Spoke   
with. Many walked, while a few danced along. They moved quickly, and   
all had passed but the last one. He started by, then paused. "Hello,   
Frodo of Shire."  
  
All three who stood in the shadows blinked, and Pippin and Sam looked   
at Frodo. "Do you know him, Feb?" asked Sam. Frodo shook his head,   
but stepped out onto the path as the man called back his caravan.   
  
"Hello. We do not mean to bother you, but you are known to many of   
these woods as the wise folk. I would asked a question of you, if I   
may?" Frodo fell back into the speech patterns Bilbo had taught him   
to use when dealing with the Speakers.  
  
Eyes as deep as the ocean looked at him, and the man reached out to   
brush his fingers against Frodo's forehead. Sam bristled and moved   
forward, but stopped at a wave of Frodo's hand. The man stood still   
for a few seconds, then blinked, his eyes blank. "My name is Gildor,   
Frodo of Shire. You have been marked by a strong Talent, and those   
who move in darkness of heart and darkness of cloth seek you. You   
must avoid them at all cost, for the darkness they bear will spread   
to all of world, just as it did during the Great War if they are able   
to take you."  
  
Frodo, Sam, and Pippin all shivered. Far too young to have been in   
the Great War, they had learned of it in school, and the ruins of   
what Middle Earth had once been still lingered everywhere.  
  
"You must avoid all those who bear the Dark One's taint. Seek Fire,   
for he shall aid you." Gildor blinked again, and his eyes lost their   
blank look. "I apologize. I do not normally read without permission.   
Did I offend you?"  
  
Frodo shook his head. "No, Gildor of the Speakers. You have given me   
what I need to know, and I am grateful. Is there anything we might to   
repay you?"  
  
Gildor bowed. "Nothing. Merely keep what I have seen from coming   
true, that is all that I ask. I would suggest you not take this path   
any further, for there are dark spots my people can not see though.   
Good day, and good luck." As suddenly as the Speaker caravan had   
appeared, they vanished, moving down the path at a deceptive pace.  
  
Sam and Pippin shared a look at the weirdness of the encounter, but   
Frodo looked thoughtful. "We can no longer take this path. We've got   
to find another, or make a new one." He headed into the woods,   
pausing to look at the others when they made no move. "Coming?"  
  
Before either Sam or Pippin could answer, Frodo shimmered once more,   
and a buck leaped over a fallen tree, moving deeper into the woods.   
The other two quickly followed suit.  
  
They traveled for about twenty or thirty minutes, pausing from time   
to time so Pippin could ask the wind to guide them. Soon, however,   
they came out on the edge of a field, and Frodo froze at the edge of   
it, still in his deer form. Sam changed and walked over.   
  
"Feb, you all right?" He touched Frodo's fur covered shoulder, and   
felt worry, tension, and a little fear flow over him. "Feb?"  
  
A shimmer, and Sam had the strange experience of empathing a change.   
A very odd, and slightly off, sensation. He was soon looking into   
Frodo's large blue eyes. "This is Farmer Maggot's field. When I was   
younger, I was browsing around in his mushroom patch, and he set his   
dogs on me." A slight shiver. "Those dogs were bigger than I was.   
Scared me to death."  
  
There was a snort from behind them, and Pippin walked up. "We don't   
have time for this. If the dogs scare you that much, shift and chase   
them off. Merry's waiting for us, and I don't like being in the   
open." Pippin rolled his eyes and started across the field. Sam and   
Frodo exchanged looks and scrambled to follow.  
  
Frodo's resolution to not panic broke as soon as the dogs left their   
cover. As if by magic, the three men were surrounded by three large,   
*large* dogs. Frodo clutched Sam's hand, and the empath could feel   
the FEAR run through him. "It's okay, Feb. They won't hurt us."  
  
Looking at the large teeth, and hearing the deep growls, Frodo wasn't   
so sure, but he felt himself relax, just a little. That little became   
a little more when Farmer Maggot's voice was heard, call the three   
beasts off.  
  
Even as the dogs backed away, Maggot himself came into view. "Looky   
here," he smiled, bright eyes going from one young man to another. "I   
know you, young Mr. Pippin. Haven't seen you for a while now. Just   
these odd folk that shouldn't be around."   
  
Sam noticed that Maggot was barefoot, and where he stepped, tiny   
shoots of green appeared. This, more than anything else, made him   
feel safe around the older man. If one couldn't trust a Grower,   
someone who the very earth blossomed for, who could one trust?  
  
With a large grin, Pippin shook Maggot's hand. "Haven't seen you   
since Mom moved us to town, Farmer. This is Samwise Gamgee." A hand   
wave in Sam's direction. "And this is Frodo Baggins."  
  
Maggot looked sharply at Frodo. "Had a fellow stop by just a while   
ago looking for you, Mr. Baggins. Eerie fellow, all in black. Had a   
strange lisp to his words. I'm guessing he's not from around here."  
  
Not wanting to be rude, but still feeling the urgency that kept   
building, as if someone had painted a target between his shoulders,   
Frodo cut in. "I'm really sorry to be rude, Sir, but we need to get   
to town quick. Do you have a phone we could call a cab with?"  
  
Blinking a bit at the sudden interruption, Maggot paused. "I need to   
go to town myself. How bouts I give you a ride?" He was the focus of   
three pairs of eyes.  
  
"Are you sure you can?" asked Sam, not wanting to put anyone out of   
their way. When the farmer nodded, the friends began to hustle him   
back to the house. There was a brief pause as Maggot grabbed the   
stuff he was going to take, and Mrs. Maggot to make up something and   
give it to Frodo, but they were soon off. Sam and Pippin were curious   
as to what Frodo had been given, but the youngest of the group had   
taken one look and sat back with a smile.  
  
Quickly, but not as fast as they would have liked, Frodo, Sam, and   
Pippin found themselves outside the Buckland. Maggot had told them to   
be careful, then winked at Frodo before driving away. Frodo cracked   
up laughing.  
  
"What's so funny? And what did Mrs. Maggot give you?" Pippin asked as   
they walked to the elevator. He was so eaten up by curiosity that he   
was close to pouncing Frodo and looking at the basket himself.   
  
Instead of answering, Frodo led them into the elevator, then hit the   
button for the Crickhollow floor. As the elevator made it's way   
towards the top floor, he showed them. "Guess they recognized the   
name after all," he said. The basked was full of smoked and fresh   
mushrooms.  
  
There was a ping, and the elevator opened to a set of closed doors.   
Frodo slid his key in, and they entered the penthouse of Buckland   
apartments.   
  
Almost instantly, Merry was in front of them. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!!"  
  
Startled, Frodo jumped with a yelp. He glared at his friend as Sam   
helped him up. "Don't DO that!" he gasped, taking deep breathes to   
slow his heart down. "I've had a long day, and it's barely begun."   
Taking one last deep breath, Frodo explained to Merry what had   
happened since Pippin's phone call that morning.  
  
"God," sighed Merry. "Doesn't sound like you've had a good morning,   
either." His eyes darted around the room. "I had a rather nasty   
vision. Lots of blood, lots of fighting, lots of death. And that ring   
that Bilbo gave you in the middle of it all. I headed over this way,   
and Pippin headed for the cabin. We thought it was our best bet on   
catching you two."  
  
Frodo nodded. "Right. Let me grab the ring, and we'll head for the   
Prancing Pony." The dark-haired man vanished in the direction of his   
room, then reappeared, a plain gold ring in his hand. Sliding it into   
his pocket, he nodded at the others. "Got it. Let's go."  
  
All four of them piled into the elevator, ready to get to the   
Prancing Pony, and to find out from Gandalf what was going on.  
  
It would be a while before they did either.  
  
TBC 


	3. To Bree

As the elevator moved down the apartment building, Merry pulled out his cell phone and hit a number.  
A few minutes later, he was speaking to someone in cryptic tones.  
  
"You get them?  
  
Good. Be less than five. You coming?"  
  
A snort at whatever the answer was."Sure, wimp out on us.  
  
You're WHAT!?"  
  
Frodo, Pippin, and Sam all looked at Merry, who was ignoring them. None of them were sure if they  
wanted to know exactly what their friend was doing.  
  
"Fine. Like I said, five. Later."  
  
Flipping the phone shut, he looked at the three people staring at him. "What?"  
  
"Care to tell us what that was about?" Frodo asked. Beside him, Pippin's and Sam's expression asked  
the same thing.  
  
The sandy-haired man just grinned. "Just something to make our trip faster. I had a feeling that we  
would be going a fair distance from home."  
  
He was saved from any further questions when the doors opened, and all four stepped out. Merry took  
the lead, and the other three followed. Their curiosity grew as Merry lead them around back of the  
apartment. Even more surprising was when they saw a friend of theirs, another bitalent by the name of  
Fatty Bolger.  
  
"Bout time you got here," he yelled at Merry. "I have my own life to live, you know."  
  
Merry choked on laughter. "Sure. That's why your going to play distractor to anything that might be  
looking for Frodo, right?" His eyes light up. "Did you get them?"  
  
Fatty patted the trailer he was leaning against. "Damn good thing that I'm your neighbor, and that you  
don't live that far from here. Otherwise, you'd have just been out of luck."  
  
After aiming a swat at Fatty's shoulder, Merry opened the top half of the trailer door. "Perfect," he said,  
a huge smile on his face. "You guys stand back."  
  
With only that as a warning, Merry opened the doors. Out flowed four bright white horses. At least  
they looked like horses.  
  
Sam knew instantly they weren't what they appear. With a horse as a biform, he was sensitive to  
anything that wore the same form. These weren't horses, they were something much more valuable and  
rare.  
  
"Elvensteeds."  
  
Merry smiled brightly at Sam. "Yep. My da raised a whole herd. Smartest thing that go naturally on  
four legs. Clever little shape shifters, too."   
  
As if to prove a point, the one the stood next to Merry nickered and shifted. Not with the shimmer of a  
biform, but just melting from one form to another. Where a white horse once stood, Merry now  
balanced a beautiful metallic blue racing motorcycle. "We need to move, and this is the fastest way I  
can think of."  
  
The fact that Merry had had elvensteeds brought into town was testament to how badly the vision had  
startled him. If his friendly neighborhood clairvoyant was that nervous, Frodo wasn't going to argue with  
him.   
  
He was the next to step of to one of the strange elvensteeds. Extremely rare, they were able to change  
their form to best accommodate their rider. Legend had it that the shape shifting trait came from an  
ancient race known as elves, who took these horses and changed them with great magic. Now,  
however, no one knew if the legends were true or not. Still, elvensteeds were just magical. No matter  
what their origins.  
  
Placing his hand on the 'steed he was next to, Frodo watched as it became a cycle similar to Merry's,  
only in a pale, icy blue. Nearby, Sam's had turned to a deep green cycle, and Pippin's to a metallic red.   
  
Frodo looked at Fatty. "Are you sure you want to stay here? There are things out there that give me the  
creeps." He shivered. When Fatty nodded, the dark haired man fished out his apartment keys. "Here,"  
he said, tossing them to Fatty. "I don't want to come home and find out you got me kicked out of one of  
the best penthouse apartments in the whole Shire," he warned. In a softer voice, Frodo continued. "Be  
careful. Be safe."  
  
With that, he revved up the fake engine that the 'steen had created, and started away. Behind him,  
Frodo could hear the other three doing the same thing. Before they began to move, Merry yelled  
something.  
  
"I know a short cut to Bree," he yelled, barely heard over the engines. Frodo nodded to say that he  
heard, and waved Merry in front. Smoothly, all four friends headed out, heading for the section of the  
city that held the Prancing Pony and Gandalf.  
  
***  
  
They were weaving through back roads and alleys, having to keep their speed down because of the  
sharp turns, something the 'steed definitely didn't like. Neither did Frodo. He waved Merry over, and  
stopped.  
  
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, looking around for a reason to stop.  
  
Frodo shook his head. "I just wanted to ask Merry how short his short cut really is. This seems to be  
taking a long time, since the 'steeds are going slower since none of us have gear for bikes."  
  
"It shouldn't take that long," Merry told the others. "We've just had a lot of turns. That's allllyahhh!"  
  
A large willow tree, which moments before had just been swaying in the wind, had wrapped several  
long branches around Merry and was dragging him towards it. Pippin let out a yell as several more  
branches did the same to him. The younger of the pair was quickly pulled into the trunk, and Frodo and  
Sam watching in horror as it wrapped a layer of wood and bark between them and their friend. Both  
rushed forward as it started to do the same to Merry.  
  
Patting down his pockets, Sam pulled out a lighter. He never did find out why he had it, but he did.  
"Frodo," he yelled, tossing it to the other man. Pulling off his extra shirt, Frodo wrapped it around a  
fallen branch. A quick twist to tie it off, and the young man lit the shirt on fire. Tossing the lighter back  
to Sam, Frodo thrust the flaming cloth into the willow's branches. Merry's scream made him jump back.  
  
"PUT IT OUT!! HE'LL KILL US IF YOU DON"T!!"  
  
Tossing the makeshift torch to the side, Frodo looked helplessly at Sam. "Any bright ideas, GB?"  
  
Sam shook his head. "If only . . ." He stopped, cocking his head to listen. "What's that?"  
  
Frodo also paused to listen. "Don't know, GB. Sounds like . . . Singing?"  
  
It was singing, and it was getting closer.   
  
Hey dol! Merry dol! Ring a dong dillo!  
Ring a dong! Hop along! Fal lal the willow  
Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo [1]  
  
A strange man burst out from a nearby grove of trees, startling the two younger men before him.  
"What's this? Old Man Willow attacking some strangers once again? Stop that right now, you hear me,  
Willow Man. You're a tree. Do what trees do. Feed from the sky, drink from the earth. Don't be  
touching those who move about."  
  
There was a strange shudder through the tree's, and both Merry and Pippin flew from the tree as if they  
had been tossed by strong arms. They landed hard, with loud grunts, rolling until they hit against Frodo  
and Sam.  
  
"You all right there, younglings?" asked the stranger. For the first time, Frodo and Sam looked closely  
at the one who saved their friends, while Merry and Pippin looked upon their savior for the first time.  
  
Dressed in blue, with large yellow boots, and a tall battered hat crowned by a bright blue feather, the  
man looked older. His ruddy face was wreathed in wrinkles, but they were more from spending a great  
deal of time outdoors than from old age. A long brown beard grew down that weathered face. Bright  
blue eyes twinkled from among the wrinkles. "Hello, young ones. My name is Tom Bombadil. Nice to  
meet you. Who might you be?"  
  
The name had stuck all of them dumb, and they started at the man with shocked looks.  
  
TBC...  
[1] This is actually the song Frodo and Sam first hear Tom sing as Old Man Willow are taking their  
friends. 


End file.
